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Free Writing - Take 80

The holidays came and went without a sound. Mixed emotions this year, more than most. No festive feelings to be had, just stuck in the middle of this land of confusion and wasted time. I'm trying, behind the scenes, but failing miserably. I've gone away from the land I lived in for so long. One made on conversations and communications, often mistaken words of feelings, but communication nonetheless. I've fallen down this rabbit hole of post it notes and e-mails, where emotions are displayed with three dollar adjectives and literary quotes. I sat on Easter, listening to the same stories I'd heard during Thanksgiving or around, then Christmas and before that fourth of July. I turn to Facebook to hear about first steps and traffic anger, but at least it is fresh. Stories that have been memorized, embellished, shall we say edited to perfection, but have lost their luster, much like Dr. Seuss' magic dwindles and for the same reason, age. I've long wondered how the human mind works. Why can we remember the size of our shoe from our first grade recital, but can't remember how long the same box of pasta we cooked Saturday will take today? Why is it that the words of meaningless people on the TV and Radio are remembered and repeated over and over, the same giggle or sigh following with each retelling, but the words from our human contacts are forgotten literally seconds after they are spoken. I'm getting older and more sullen. I'm realizing that I've found myself in a world that doesn't care about human interaction, simply the need to say we did something. The entire community makes seven trips to a market nobody wants to be in, while I used to shop for the week on Tuesday nights, because it was the only night I didn't care to be bothered. Seven or eight bags, weighting my down. Sweat pouring in the dead of winter as I struggle not to fall and even more concerned with running into a neighbor, who might ask if I need a hand. Midnight, I'm heating my dinner, listening to a bug play in the dirt of the flower pot. Is he playing or stuck? I let him be and somehow I wonder if that's what he wants.

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